


ghosts

by SHSLdiva



Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, F/M, Group Therapy, Revelations, this makes it sound hella intense it is not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHSLdiva/pseuds/SHSLdiva
Summary: penelope talks about the wedding at group therapy and comes to a startling (but really, not so surprising) realization.





	ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> set after the season 3 finale. i'm too lazy to think up a good title and too tired to know if this needs more work or not. who can say. rereading stuff when sleepy doesn't work.
> 
> edit: oh this is going to be multichapter my friends. it's getting out of hand.

“We haven’t heard from you yet, Penelope,” Pam said, “which is surprising considering-”  
  
“I’m so loud?” Penelope joked, leaning towards Ramona and elbowing her conspiratorially before grinning out at the group.

Pam gave a little disapproving sigh and Penelope immediately bit back her smile. “ _Which is surprising considering_ Victor just got married. You don’t want to talk about the wedding?”  
  
Penelope sighed a little and rubbed her forehead. It wasn’t that she didn’t _want_ to talk about the wedding, it was that she was afraid to. Victor’s wedding had brought up a lot of questions — questions she refused to answer.  
  
Yeah, going to your ex’s wedding was tough, but she could handle that. She was a freaking soldier. All those pitying looks and comments were annoying, but whatever, she was tough. She was fine on her own. She didn’t need a man to complete her.

The ghost of her dead papi giving her some Disney crap about true love, though? There was obviously some subconscious, internalized bullshit going on there and she didn’t want to wade through it. She was doing just fine ignoring it (except at night when she couldn’t sleep, or when she wasn’t busy, or when she was awake in general), but bringing it up at group therapy would mean she had to deal with it.  
  
She had been silent for far too long, though, and freakin’ Pam just had to be good at her freakin’ job. She would’ve loved just once for Pam to ignore her, to not press, to let her push her emotions far, far away until she forgot about them. Instead, Pam pushed, which Penelope knew she wasn’t supposed to be mad about but she kinda was.  
  
“Did something happen?”  
  
Penelope sighed once again. “I mean, just the usual stuff you’d expect at your ex’s wedding. Y‘know, pitying looks from everyone, a lot of condescending comments about how I’ll find someone, my papi’s ghost showing up to give me romantic advice.”  
  
“Wait,” Pam said, holding up a hand, “you saw your father’s ghost?”

“I mean, between my board exams and Schneider I haven’t really been sleeping.”  
  
“Man, I wish Schneider was keeping _me_ up at night,” Jill said with a grin. “I _still_ can’t believe you’re not sleeping with him.”  
  
A confusing feeling bubbled up in Penelope’s stomach. Was that anger? No wait, jealousy? Usually the comments about Schneider didn’t bother her, but today everything just seemed to annoy her. She crossed her arms, sulking like a petulant teen, and sunk lower into her seat. “I’ve barely even _seen_ him since he got back together with his girlfriend.”  
  
“You don’t like her?” Pam asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. There was a look in her eyes that Penelope was trying very hard to pretend she didn’t understand. She focused her eyes on the ground instead.  
  
“No, I do. She’s great. They’re weird and rich and perfect for each other. She just — he used to spend all his time with me, y’know? I had all his attention. And I mean, I’m glad he’s happy and everything, I just wish -“ Penelope cut herself off. What _did_ she wish? That Schneider was alone and single? That Schneider hadn’t found someone to show him the love he so desperately needed? Or maybe — just maybe — she wished it was her.  
  
But that was ridiculous. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. God, she needed some sleep. She couldn’t seriously be — she couldn’t be considering — she wasn’t in love with Schneider.  
  
“It sounds like you’re jealous of her.”

Penelope groaned and sank even lower in her seat. Therapy was supposed to _help_.  
  
“I’m not jealous. I’m just — okay maybe I’m a little jealous. But it doesn’t mean anything. He’s my best friend. It sucks that I don’t get to hang out with him as much. But it doesn’t _mean_ anything. I mean, he spends — spent all his time at my apartment, of course I’d miss him. It’s just an adjustment, y’know? But it doesn’t mean anything. I mean, he’s _Schneider_.”

Penelope took a shuddering breath and tugged at the collar of her shirt. The room was suddenly too hot and she was sweating and her mind was racing and she was replaying all the rambling denial in her head and _oh god_.  

“Yeah,” Ramona said slowly, in that cool, casual voice that definitely didn’t match Penelope’s panicked mind state, “he’s just Schneider; the guy you go to when you’re having an anxiety attack, who takes care of your kids, who your mom loves, who basically lives at your apartment, who you worry so much about you haven’t slept in weeks. No biggie.”  
  
Another shuddering breath. Penelope dragged her hand down her face. She was going through so many emotions it felt like her head would burst. _It doesn’t mean anything_ , she thought.

But Ramona was right. Schneider was always there, not just for her but for the kids and her mom. He didn’t have any ulterior motives, either, he just loved them. She’d spent so long making fun of him for forcing himself into their lives, but the truth was she couldn’t do it without him.  
  
And the thought of something happening to him? She tried not to grimace. It made her sick. She felt it in her whole body, in parts she didn’t even know existed. It made her nauseous and achey and she could feel the anxiety coming on hard and fast, waves threatening to bowl her over. Her fingers twitched; she needed to call him, make sure he was okay. Oh god, what if he relapsed again? What if it wasn’t just alcohol? What if —

The world was spinning. Her head was spinning. She was suddenly acutely aware that everyone was watching her, worried looks on their faces as she waved her hands in front of her face, trying to force herself to breathe. And she was also acutely aware of the feelings she’d been forcing back for how long? She wasn’t entirely sure, but they were bubbling up and she knew she wouldn’t be able to push them back down again.

God, therapy fucking sucked.

She took another deep breath, steadied herself.

“It might mean something.”


End file.
